Page 150 of The Siren of Sussex

Anne appeared to be giving Mr. Hartford a piece of her mind. He no longer looked as though he was on the verge of laughing. He stood there, absorbing whatever Anne was saying, as solemn as a vicar on Sunday.

Evelyn saw no sign of Stella or Julia. No sign of Lady Arundell or Uncle Harris, either. Shortly after arriving, the two of them had ensconced themselves with a group of other spiritualists, talking and drinking champagne. They’d still been there when Evelyn had last seen them. In truth, their chaperonage left a lot to be desired.

Not that she could complain.

Captain Blunt’s hand settled at her back as he led her into the first steps of a lively polka.

She smiled. Not because she liked him, or because he was a particularly good dancer, but because the music was swelling and the night was alive around her. It gave her a strange feeling of euphoria.

They danced for a long while before Captain Blunt finally deigned to speak.

“Your friend isn’t here this evening, I see,” he said.

“My friend? What friend?”

“Miss Wychwood.”

Evelyn gave him an alert glance. She debated telling him that Julia was, indeed, here, only stopped by the fact that Julia would likely swoon at the very sight of the man. “You take a special interest in Miss Wychwood?”

He didn’t reply. Not directly. “Tell me, does she never speak?”

“With great animation,” Evelyn said. “But not, I fear, in a ballroom.”

His gaze sharpened with raptor-like intensity. “Where?”

“Why do you wish to know?”

His mouth curved in a cold smile. The action pulled on his scar, making his face look positively menacing. “Chalk it up to my detestable curiosity.”

Evelyn stared at him. She wondered if he was as dangerous as he looked. He’d been a hero in the war, hadn’t he? And he read novels. That must count for something. “Miss Wychwood is more comfortable when she’s riding.”

“Ah.”

“Do you ride, sir?” she asked.

His smile vanished. “I was a cavalry officer, ma’am.”

“In the Crimea, I’m told.”

He inclined his head.

They finished their dance in silence. When the music ended, he led her back to the edge of the platform. She was just about to step down when she caught sight of someone standing outside the iron arch that led to the pagoda.

A familiar someone, illuminated in the radiance of the colorful lamplight.

Her heart took flight.

“Do you know that person?” Captain Blunt asked.

She dropped her hand from his arm. “Yes. I know him very well.”

It was Ahmad.

Dressed in elegantly cut black-and-white eveningwear, he looked more broodingly handsome than on any other occasion she’d seen him. Truly a fallen angel come to earth. Not reluctantly this time, but purposefully.

He’d come for her.

Ahmad hadn’t taken the decision to come to Cremorne Gardens lightly. It was a public garden, to be sure, but there were plenty of obstacles to his making an appearance there. Although any stranger might wander among Lady Blackstone’s guests, it was still a private party. His presence would be noted by those in attendance.